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<title>Favorite Place by steverogerstrash (theyvegotthisspellonme)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24465250">Favorite Place</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyvegotthisspellonme/pseuds/steverogerstrash'>steverogerstrash (theyvegotthisspellonme)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Resist the Snooze [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Sickfic, as in Carol has a bad cold</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:21:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>824</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24465250</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyvegotthisspellonme/pseuds/steverogerstrash</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha comes home to a messy apartment and a sick girlfriend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Carol Danvers/Natasha Romanov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Resist the Snooze [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1269041</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Favorite Place</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>idk y'all these always go places I don't expect them to</p><p>the <a href="http://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator">prompt</a> for this was "domestic"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Natasha sighs as she leans back into the couch cushions. It had been another long day debriefing, and she had been looking forward to some time to just unwind in front of the TV (she’d never admit it, but her favorite shows were the bottom of the barrel reality shows that were more about people getting in fights than anything else). When she unlocked the door to the apartment, though, she’d found the mess the cat made on her way back in from the fire escape, a sink full of dishes, and Carol sniffling, eyes red and voice gone, in their bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natasha had dropped a kiss on Carol’s forehead before heading back to the kitchen to make soup using a recipe that felt like it had been in her head longer than she had. As the broth came together, Natasha washed the dishes and cleaned up after the cat, then went back in to check on her girlfriend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, really. It’s allergies or something.” Carol insists, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, first, it’s November, babe. Second, stop getting snot on my favorite sweatshirt.” Natasha laughs, leaning towards the nightstand behind her to grab the box of tissues. “The soup will be ready soon, it’ll help. And in the meantime, I’m telling Fury no missions for either of us for a while. We need to get you back on your feet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine. I can work, it’s-” Carol cuts herself off with a sneeze. She groans, dropping back into the pillows. “Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Natasha says primly, getting up to check on the soup. Carol laughs a bit, the sound trailing off into a cough. Natasha frowns. “Soup.” Carol just nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The soup itself isn’t perfect, but Natasha isn’t looking to split hairs on this. She brings a small bowl to Carol, hoping that the blonde has some appetite. She didn’t seem to have a fever, but Natasha doesn’t trust this not to be the flu. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Babe, this is delicious.” Carol says, taking another sip of broth. “Where did you learn to make this and can you teach me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not the one to ask. Barnes makes it better than I do, but I don’t think he’s the one who taught me how. One of those things.” Natasha shrugs, trying to downplay how much not knowing something like this bothers her. But Carol just nods her understanding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll ask him next time we’re in New York, then.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their line of work lends itself more frequently to memory gaps than most, but Natasha hates not knowing about where she came from, who she was before the Red Room took her in. Even the early years there have become hazier over time, which she’s not entirely sure is a bad thing. Those memories won’t do her any good, though sometimes she wakes up from dreams of a younger blonde, a name she can’t quite grasp sitting on the tip of her tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of Carol setting the bowl on her nightstand brings Natasha back to the present. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you thinking about?” Carol asks. She knows better than to ask Natasha if she’s okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The other girls. The ones they threatened me with.” Because she remembers that much, that they threatened the other girls with punishment if Natasha failed. And if not them, then Barnes, at least during their time together. They’d seen that she cared about him, to some degree, and exploited it like a weakness. It had taken her too long to learn that it wasn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you heard anything about what happened to them?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, nothing. Nothing since they shut it down.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I don’t think there’s anything you can do. So you should come cuddle me until I feel better.” Natasha raises her head, meeting Carol’s goofy grin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, fine. But at least let me get out of my work clothes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess you can do that.” Carol laughs, pulling a chuckle out of Natasha. She makes short work of getting into her pajamas, pulling one of Carol’s t-shirts out of the dresser before crawling under the covers with the blonde. Carol pulls up a bad movie on her tablet, volume just loud enough that the room isn’t silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You make it better.” Natasha says after a while. Carol presses a kiss to her forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You make it better for me, too.” She admits. Natasha opens her mouth to say something else, but Carol sneezes before she can get the words out. There’s a pause before they both burst out laughing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Way to ruin the moment.” Natasha says through her laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I’m terrible.” Carol shakes her head, like she can’t believe her own timing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Natasha corrects, “you’re perfect.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you taking lessons in sappy from Steve? Because that was quite the line and I would totally jump you right now if I didn’t feel like shit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Another time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You bet your ass.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>follow me on <a href="http://ceilingventclintbarton.tumblr.com">tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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